


Team Up (of the Century)

by scar-and-boomerang (Y_Woo)



Series: Zukka Week 2020 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Humor, I'm so excited y'all!, Identity Reveal, M/M, No Angst, Secret Identity, Secret Identity AU, Secret Identity Fail, Zukka Week, Zukka week 2020, my first Zukka Week pls be nice, superhero au, what is this me? not writing angst? it's the end of the world as we know it, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22332382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Y_Woo/pseuds/scar-and-boomerang
Summary: At night, they are both vigilante heroes seeking the thrill of under-the-table crime fighting. During the day, they are partners working at the precinct as police detectives. It's only a matter of time before the two lives would collide, and a romance ensues. Oh, and cameo from a certain leader of the freedom fighters who's suddenly decided that personal vengeance isn't his thing in this universe anymore.
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607521
Comments: 27
Kudos: 438





	Team Up (of the Century)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1  
> Prompt: Night and Day  
> Own tags: Modern timeline, vigilante hero AU, 'getting together' story
> 
> Credit to Randall Munroe's book 'What If' for a particularly clever line, Broadway's Dear Evan Hansen for another, and finally NBC's Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the last very witty line. (see if you can spot them all). Also credit to The Flash for the inspiration behind this pic I guess because I've been binging that way to intensely lately.

**Day**

Zuko looked dead on his feet when he came out of the morning briefing on Wednesday. His shirt collar was rumpled, tie loose and sloppily knotted, a jacket halfheartedly slung over his back, and hw was gripping a to-go coffee cup so tight it was as if his life depended on it. Walking with the slightest hint of a limp in his right leg up to his desk and plopping himself down with a quiet groan under his breath, he picked up the latest case file that had been assigned to him, and idly skimmed through the documents inside.

“Wild night?” Across him, Sokka grinned his trademark grin, and slurped obscenely on his own cup of coffee. Zuko grimaced as he delivered his cover-up story fluently.

“I think I blacked out at one point, which would explain the sprained ankle that I can’t remember how I got, and the hangover headache.”

The smooth confession earned a chuckle from his partner, who took his feet off his table and set his beverage down to wheel the chair over to Zuko’s desk, all while twirling a ball point pen between his fingers.

“Well, you weren’t the only one who knew how to party last night, it seems.” Sokka remarked, “the perp from our homicide case was brought in last night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, found him handcuffed to the lamppost outside the precinct this morning, practically pissing himself and begging to sign the confession form. Wasn’t injured or anything though,” Sokka added hastily upon seeing his partner’s concerned expression, “just shaken.”

“Guess the Grey Wolf really did a number on him.”

“Actually, the camera outside the building shows it was the Blue Spirit who brought him.”

“Is that what they’re calling him nowadays?” Zuko commented dryly, after playing off incredulously choking on his own breath as a cough and regaining his composure at the ridiculous alias he didn’t — couldn’t — ask for.

Sokka grinned, wheeled back to his table, and held up the latest copy of newspaper with the headline “ _The Blue Spirit spotted across rooftops the third night in a row! Giving the city’s resident hero a run for their money?”_

“Well, I guess we’ve got two vigilantes in this city now.”

“That’s two too many, if you ask me.” Another voice piped up from across the room, causing Zuko to tense up reflexively, and Sokka to roll his eyes in what was perhaps an overly dramatic display of annoyance.

“Yet nobody asked you, Jet.” The latter called out to the detective dressed in a neatly pressed vest, sporting sleek hair and a lopsided, vaguely threatening smirk. “And it’s not like everyone at this precinct doesn’t already know your stance on the Grey Wolf, who you’re just mad is cooler than you ever will be, so maybe go broadcast that opinion somewhere else.”

Jet shrugged, walked up to their desk, and tapped the table in front of them. “Sorry, fellas. I just think that the personal vengeance promoted by vigilantes encourage societies to blur the lines of true justice and take away the authority of law enforcement. But of course fine police detectives like yourselves, you already know that.”

“God, I hate him.” Sokka moaned under his breath as Jet walked away, “his holier-than-thou fancy words, his bad-boy smirks, and that sexy, sexy thing he does when he runs his hand through his hair while the other rests on his hips.”

Next to him, Zuko snorted, then quickly disguised it as another cough to avoid getting swatted at by his partner.

“So the autopsy report came in on the case from a dew days ago, want to head down to the lab and pick up where we left off?” He offered.

“Lead the way.” Sokka responded, getting up and ready to leave.

* * *

**Night**

With two vigilante heroes in town now, it really was a wonder they hadn’t turned up at the same fight at the same time earlier.

It was hardly a robbery, the Grey Wolf mused as he jogged around the back of the building, taking a couple shortcuts he’d mapped out to cut the criminal off at the exit, since it was after hours and there was no one in the building. Not that the security is any less meticulous, he supposed, which meant he was playing a game of wits rather than brute force.

A shadow emerged from the doorway, dragging several duffle bags of cash behind him. Despite the weight, however, the guy was fast, the Grey Wolf noted as he propelled his feet to move faster to gain on him inch by inch.

Suddenly, the robber came to a halt so sudden the Grey Wolf almost rammed into the back of him. He only had to wonder about the reason behind the criminal’s sudden love for the city prison’s cuisine before a gravelly voice called out in front of them.

“In a hurry?” Asked the silhouette, darkened save for the glisten of the two long blades held in a cross in front of his chest in a menacing stance.

The bank robber made a move for his gun, but was disarmed in a flurry of metal in what seemed like an instant. The Grey Wolf could only stand and gape as he watched the other hero cuff and subdue the criminal and collect the bags he took.

“I totally had that!” He called out, studying the lean figure clad in black, tight-fitting suits save for the mask he wore over his face, blue and white patterns shining in the streetlight. He supposed that tonight is as good as any to be meeting the legendary Blue Spirit.

“I’m sure you did.” Said Spirit chuckled with a dry sarcasm that reminded the Grey Wolf a lot of much of someone from his day job. “Nothing wrong with wanting to speed things up a little though.”

In the distance, police sirens started to ring as shouts came from the security guards racing out towards them.

“That must be the police.” The Blue Spirit acknowledged, nodding toward the flashes from the vehicles in the distance.

“Faster than I thought they would be. The night shift in the precinct are incompetent sloths.”

Even with the mask on, the eyebrow raise was evident in the tone of the Spirit when he noted on the remark. “Oh?” He questioned, “you know them personally?”

“Hey, this?” The Wolf gestured vaguely around him, swinging his arm around in random motion, “this doesn’t pay, son. Gotta have a day job. Which speaking of, I have an early day tomorrow, so I shall call it a night.”

“Yeah, me too. I’m just going to leave him,” the other vigilante patted the shoulder of the robber, who frankly the both of them had almost forgotten about, and nodded, “out for the police to find. It was nice finally getting to work with you.”

The Blue Spirit’s steps were so light when he took off, the Grey Wolf thought, he really did look like a shadow, or a spirit, as someone who had an affinity for more on-the-nose jokes would say. Which he did not. No Sir.

* * *

**Day**

_“The Grey Wolf and the Blue Spirit: Team Up of the Century?”_ Read the newspaper headline Sokka was reading two days later when Zuko walked up to the double desk they shared, which the latter caught when he glanced at the front page as he sat down.

“How does the media always immediately know what went down? Like, don’t they ever sleep?”

Sokka shrugged, taking another powdered donut out of the box sitting on his table and popping in his mouth.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they had the majority of the article lined up with just a couple of specific details put in the last minute.” He proposed through the fine cloud of white sugared dust that cloaked his face. “I mean, only so many crimes goes down in the city. With two vigilantes running around, I’m only shocked they didn’t run into each other a lot sooner.”

Zuko grunted.

“Which is totally annoying, by the way.” Sokka added after a moment of silence when they both got started on the paperwork — it was a report and quiet kind of day at the office. “We already got Grey Wolf before this Spirit guy decided that he wants in on the fun and starts messing up the hero’s rhythm.”

“I rather think he brings efficiency and style to the job.” Zuko retorted offhandedly, not looking up from the files he was working on.

Despite the mildness of his voice, the comment riled his partner up to be perhaps more passionate than he should have been. “He had plenty of efficiency and style before, thank you very much. He’s a lone wolf. It’s how he rolls.”

“You seem pretty knowledgable on how the dude operates.” Zuko pointed out.

“Besides, swords? Who brings swords to a gun fight? This is the twenty-first century, hello?” Sokka continued fiercely and completely disregarded what his partner had said.

“Hey, The Blue Spirit can handle himself with swords better than most can handle themselves with guns. Like I said, guy’s got style.”

“You know what’s got style? The Wolf’s cool tech. They kick ass.”

“Some might argue that the Spirit doesn’t need the fancy toys, he’s got solid skills on his own. Now _that’s_ what really kick ass.”

“And some others might argue that they are both out of control, disrespectful to authority and the law, and should be brought in to answer for their obstruction of justice instead of blindly idolised by the idiotic public.”

Zuko and Sokka glanced up to see Jet gazing down at them, with his hands in his trousers pockets and the pencil he always chews on resting between his lips like a cigarette.

“Good morning to you too, Jet.” Sokka bit out, forcing out a tight, overly fake grin, “I don’t suppose you walked all the way here to grace us with your presence just to deliver your opinion that everyone knows and no one never asked for?”

Jet laughed humourlessly. “Sergeant Beifong wants you two on a case that’s just come up, the file is in the briefing room.”

“Next time,” Sokka informed him as he stood up to head out with Zuko, “lead with that.”

* * *

**Night**

They didn’t mean to make a tradition out of running into each other. But there really were only so many exciting things going down in the middle of the night in a medium sized city, and on slow nights they were bound to wind up in the same vicinity.

It wasn’t necessarily one of those slow nights, but it seemed that both of the masked figures flagged “mass-homicidal, arsonist maniac” at the top of their priority list.

“Watch out — duck!” The Grey Wolf called out to the Blue Spirit as he launched his weapon towards the madman. It cut a graceful arc through the air, missed, swerved back and hit the gloating, cackling man right on the backside of the head, knocking him out cold.

“Neat, what was that?” The Blue Spirit asked through rasped, strained breaths.

“That, my friend, was my trusty boomerang.”

“Your boome— And the media makes fun of _me_ for my dual swords.”

“Hey, when your sword comes packed with a super-oxidising agent that kicks so much ass it can trigger a blast force equivalent to seventeen C-4s under a fraction of a second, then you can talk.”

“And, pray tell, what tactical advantage are you expecting to gain by having the high explosive _fly back at you_ if it misses the target?”

“Hey listen here you little shit—“

Said little shit never got the chance to hear what the other wanted to say, because the sentence was cut off in that instant by an explosion not caused by the boomerang in question, sending the Blue Spirit into the wall of the warehouse at full speed.

“Blue!” The Grey Wolf called out, rushing to the aid of his recently established ally to find him cradling his right arm across his chest.

“ _Blue?_ ” The Spirit rasped indignantly.

“I didn’t have time to call out your full name. _The Blue Spirit_ is quite the mouthful, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Whatever, _Grey Wolf.”_

The hero’s protest was once again interrupted by another bomb going off further away.

“You should go, warn the police, get the bomb squad, cuff the perp. I can handle myself.”

“Perp? Did I just hear you use police jargon?” The Wolf noticed, half teasing, half genuinely shocked at the catch.

“Gotta have a day job, _son._ ” The Spirit retorted, quoting the other’s own words from their first collaboration a couple months ago. “Now chop chop, get a move on.”

By the time the Wolf got back to the spot where the Spirit laid after the crime scene was taken care of, the latter had already been gone. It wasn’t the first time he hoped he had a number, or anything to check the other had gotten home okay.

* * *

**Day**

Sokka’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when Zuko walked in with a cast and a sling on his right arm the next day. The thudding in his chest felt so loud he was convinced that everyone could hear him as he eyed his partner approaching, dragging his feet in a gloomy state that was so unlike his usually graceful steps.

“Lemme guess,” Sokka asked gesturing at the fractured limb and delivering an Oscar-worthy performance of keeping the tone light and casual, “black-out drinking again?”

His partner glowered at him and rolled his eyes. “No. I fell. Out of a tree.”

“You fell out of a tree? What are you, an acorn?”

“Really?” Zuko raised an eyebrow and chuckled incredulously, “Dear Evan Hansen? Didn’t peg you for a musical theatre type of guy. Or an arts guy at all.”

“Hey, I can appreciate an emotionally haunting and well written tale about mental health and coming of age in a modern, technologically driven society while exploring the meaning of friendship, love, and family, with brilliant music and witty dialogue when I see one.” Sokka informed him, momentarily carried away. When Zuko made a vague noise of agreement, he tried for the question again. “So, what were you doing in the tree?”

“There was a kitten stuck up there.”

Sokka stared. He really hoped Zuko wasn’t a secret vigilante and this wasn’t a cover-up story because this is the most bloody hilarious thing he’s heard in a while.

“You scaled a tree to save a stuck kitten?”

“Emphasis on _tried to_ , turns out the kitten wasn’t stuck. I was though, after the tiny demon ran away and left me up there alone.”

Sokka snorted affectionately. “Dork”

“Hey, at least I snapped a decent picture.”

Sure enough, on the screen of the phone Zuko whipped out, the sky was lit by the orange hue of the setting sun at dusk, dimly lighting the outline of naked tree branches in the winter, and a vague little shadow can be seen clutching one of the boughs, hair puffed up in what seemed like great distress.

Sokka shrugged, starting to become more convinced that Zuko was telling the truth. Sure, Zuko often walked with an impossibly light gait that came eerily helpful during stealth missions, and the Spirit he encountered definitely worked for the police department and had access to a lot of the intel from cases they worked on, but it _can’t_ be his partner, right? He knew Zuko too well to not see that on multiple occasions, he wasn’t even sure if the masked dude actually _broke_ his arm last night, and it’s not like most of the case files weren’t hosted on a shared database that can be accessed by the entire precinct anyway, or even any one of the _fifty two_ precincts this city’s got.

Besides, the dude had pictures. Any cop knows that’s as good evidence as any.

“—ka? Sokka!” The voice snapped Sokka out of the train of thought he wasn’t aware he had sunk into. He looked up to see Zuko standing over him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “Day dreaming up the plot for your latest DnD campaign again?”

“Ha ha, funny.”

“Sergeant wants us undercover today, we tracked the rendezvous point of one of the major dealers in town to a Thai place nearby.”

Sokka grinned, all vigilante alter ego speculations forgotten. “Ooh, how’s this for undercover backstory: college best friend and roommates who had since lost touch, reconnecting with each other for the first time in decades?”

“We’re in our twenties.”

“Late twenties, and I think we can pull it off.”

* * *

**Night**

It was eight weeks before anyone saw the Blue Spirit out and about again, and another two until he moved on from stopping minor car theft and muggings to joining the Grey Wolf on more action packed crises.

“I was starting to think you’d grown tired of being my sidekick.” He called out between the heads of three mobsters he was in the process taking down when the familiar shadow appeared on the other side of his opponents, accompanied by the familiar sound of whooshing blades.

“I am not—” Retorted the Spirit, punctuating each pause in his sentence with a whack on the mobs’ legs with the flat of his blade, “your—”, another whack, “sidekick!”

The Grey Wolf elbowed another man he felt sneaking up on him from behind, and fumbled for the trigger on the weapon he was carrying. “Whatever. I see you’re still sticking with those lame swords though. Meanwhile, I have upgraded. Duck and watch.”

Aiming his latest invention at the struggling men, the invisible shockwaves had them on the floor in an instant, writhing and clawing at their ears.

“What the fuck!” The Blue Spirt yelled, jumping back from the mobsters who had all been rendered catatonic.

“Sonic cannon, baby!” Grey Wolf announced, patting the large weapon he had just slung across his back proudly as he set about cuffing his latest catch, “a sweet little invention of mine, it projects a focused beam of vibrational energy at a specific target, inducing them with intense vertigo and a healthy shot of tinnitus. Basically immobilising them and reducing them to a drooling mess on the ground in a couple seconds.”

“Is that legal?”

“It doesn’t deal any permanent damage. At least, I don’t think. Admittedly you can’t really test it on any occasion other than field action, but trust in science, right?”

“Right…” The other hero sounded anything but convinced.

“Hey what do you say we leave this to the police and get out of here?” The Grey Wolf proposed instead upon hearing the distant sirens finally catching on to the events that had just transpired. Before the Spirit could protest, he stood up and made a run for the stairwell, leaving the other no choice but to trail after him

And this was how they ended up on the rooftop, legs dangling over the sprinkled city lights, listening to the call of nighttime traffic. _This was more awkward than he had thought it would be,_ mused the Grey Wolf. It was the first time they stuck around after a fight, normally they would part ways after the threat had been taken care of. But something about not having seen the other for the better part of three months and the fact that before that they’d started making a habit out of the unspoken agreement of collaboration that made him decide it was about time they took this _relationship_ to the next level.

“So uh, you come here often?” The other man tentatively broke the silence and shook him out of his thoughts, reminding him that since he invited both of them here, he should at least be the one carrying the conversation out of basic etiquette.

“Yeah, actually, I like to sit up here sometimes after a job, just to enjoy the view. You gotta know how to have some fun too, right?”

“Hmm.” The Spirit murmured in acknowledgements, “Is that why you got started in this line of work? The view?”

The Grey Wolf pondered this for a moment, searching for the right response before deciding that it couldn’t hurt to be frank with the truth. “Nah. I just always liked inventing stuff, like gadgets and tools that pushes the limits of science and engineering, you know? And the nature of the stuff I make meant I couldn’t really test it unless it was in action, so I decided I’d go and find myself some action.”

“That doesn’t sound morally ambiguous at all, Mr. Mad Scientist.”

“Hey, I never design anything that could leave permanent damage.” Came the defensive retort. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“What inspired you to follow in my kick ass, under-the-table crime fighting ways? I have a feeling you’re not all about the cool accessories.”

“Hmm, no.” The Spirit admitted, shrugging slightly. “I’m a cop by day, actually. And you’d be surprised how frustrating it is when you are bound by law when the people you’re working to take down couldn’t give less of a damn about it. I guess I got tired of the number of times a warrant couldn’t get through in time or we’re not allowed to use force or intimidation to get intel, stuff like that. I guess I got tired of letting people who are clearly guilty get away.”

The other vigilante murmured his agreement to the sentiment, knowing all to well the feeling, not that the Spirit could be aware of how relatable this was for him.

“Look,” The Wolf proposed after a couple minutes of silence that had once again descended over the pair, “this whole secret identity thing between us is getting a bit ridiculous isn’t? I mean, we’ve been working together almost a year now, and we’ve got each other’s back, right? Might as well just come out and introduce ourselves properly.”

“How would that make difference to our working relationship?”

“Exactly, it wouldn’t change anything, so what’s the big deal, right?” Under the intricately patterned theatre mask, he could feel the skeptical stare of the Spirit on him, questioning silently. Still, he wasn’t going to give up insisting that easily. This was driving him mad and he _had_ to know. “Look, on the count of three, we’ll take off our disguises, okay? One, two, three.”

Neither of them moved.

“Awh,” the Wolf said through his headgear, still intact and placed over his face, “now I’m just disappointed in the both of us.”

Slowly, the Spirit moved his hand to the chin of his own mask, and began to slide it upwards to reveal the soft smirk on his lips. The Wolf couldn’t help but mirror his movements with his own helmet as well, matching the other’s pace in lifting it up slowly and mentally willing him to go further.

Just as the lower edge of the Spirit’s mask reached past his nose, he stopped, took his hands away, and leaned forward.

It was a clumsy, tentative kiss. The initiator inched closer, giving the other a chance to react and back away. The Wolf only considered the option for a brief moment before lurching forth to close the distance between their lips. The clunk on the masks still covering the top halves of their faces rang through the midnight air, and it took them several tries at different angles to find a comfortable position. Even then, the Wolf could feel the jagged edges of his own wolf mask dig into his cheeks, but he ignored it in favour of the soft warmths at his mouth.

When they broke apart, the Spirit’s fingers paused at the edge of his mask as if he was pondering which way to tug it. Eventually, he pulled it back down to cover the whole of his face, gave the other hero a brief nod, and took off into the night without so much a sound.

Just before the cover came down completely, however, the Wolf thought he caught a glimpse of a scar lining the Spirit’s left cheek on his moonlit face.

* * *

**Day**

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

Sokka looked up from the newspaper he insisted on reading every morning and placed it on his desk, the side with the headline _“Partnership Back ON? Blue Spirit spotted with Grey Wolf the first time in three months”_ facing up, to find his partner standing next to his desk, with his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie.

“No, why? Beifong wants us on another stakeout?”

“No, nothing work related. I actually, uh, was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee, or dinner or something.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Sokka demanded, perhaps a little too loudly out of shock. Zuko, who had already been slouching uncertainly, shrunk even lower into himself as he glanced around nervously just in time to catch Jet snicker into his paperwork from the desk over.

“Yeah,” to his credit, Zuko managed to confirm despite the embarrassment, pressing his voice lower into barely a whisper. “I am, yeah. If you want to, that is.”

“Aren’t you worried it’s going to get in the way of our professional working relationship?”

“Um, no? I mean, are you?” Zuko asked, getting more flustered by the second.

This was ridiculous, Sokka decided, they’d known each other for years, worked together so well they were borderline telepathic, were close partners in work and friendship, this was ridiculously awkward in a way he never thought would be possible between himself and Zuko, who knew him better than anybody (save for maybe Katara), and was probably the closest person to a soulmate he’s got, relationship or no.

“No, not at all.” He responded, “if anyone can make it work, it’s us.”

“Great.” Zuko breathed a sigh of relief. “I totally thought I screwed things up for a split second there.”

“You didn’t.” Sokka reassured.

That should have been it, then. Sokka _did_ like his partner, and he could see them working as well off crime scenes as they did on them, and there is no denying how great a guy Zuko was ( _not to mention hot_ , a scandalous side of his brain reminded him). Except, Sokka couldn’t stop staring at the burn scar covering his cheek and eye, and remembering that glimpse of the same dark colouring under the dim skylight that night.

Except he couldn’t stop feeling the warmth on his lips, the pressure of their masks pressing together, and the solidity of the touch from someone who calls himself a Spirit.

“But, um, I’m actually seeing someone? There’s this… uh,” Sokka added on a whim, hoping the uncertainty of his voice didn’t make it sound like he was lying to get out of it. He blanked on how to finish that sentence, because what exactly was there between him and the Blue Spirit? What exactly does he tell his partner? This vigilante hero? This media-frenzy inducing phenomenon? “This guy. Yeah, I’m sort of seeing this guy.”

He tried not to feel his stomach clenching at Zuko’s crestfallen expression, or think about how insane it was that he chose a masked figure over his partner, flesh and bone and _real_ , in front of him this very instant.

But the Blue Spirit had been real as well, right? And after all, he had been spending nights running around town, taking down bad guys together, and they did kiss. The haunting feeling on his lips constantly reminded him of that fact, _they did kiss._

 _“_ Right, uh, sorry. I didn’t know that. Should have checked before I asked, I guess.” Zuko stammered, running a hand through the back of his head.

“No, no it’s fine. This doesn’t change anything though, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’m… uh, I’m just going to go. Catch ya around.” Zuko nodded, and reached forward to pat Sokka’s shoulder stiffly, before turning to leave, ignoring Jet’s low and teasing whistle as he passed the latter’s desk.

Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair to Zuko if he was running around hung up on another dude anyway, mask or no.

Yep, he was totally insane.

* * *

**Night**

In the end, the Wolf saw the Spirit’s try face by accident, but revealed his own identity by choice.

They had been caught in a gun fight when the Grey Wolf’s latest geo-seismic blaster misfired too close to the Blue Spirit’s feet, knocking the other back several feet until he hit his head on a water barrel stacked behind them.

“Sorry!” The Wolf called out to the unconscious body, allowing himself only a couple seconds to wince at his mistake before turning his concentration back towards the gunmen they were fighting.

It took him a lot longer to subdue all of them alone. Somewhere in the middle of the combat his blaster piston jammed, and he only had a split moment to toss it to the side before it caught on fire. _It’s what he gets for bringing a knife (or in this case, an unfinished prototype) to a gunfight_ , he scolded himself mentally as he resorted to the (tactically paradoxical) explosive boomerang to finish the job off, tie up all the perps, and go check on the damage he had done with the Spirit.

He stopped in his tracks when his feet kicked something on the way, and he looked down to find the unmistakable blue and white patterned mask lying on the ground with the strap snapped in two. His heart began to beat wildly as he realised what it meant.

“Nrgghh.” The vigilante that used to sport the Spirit mask propped himself up on his elbows as he came to, groaning half-lucidly. He froze when he saw the Great Wolf stood over him, helmet still intact, frozen as he gazed intensely at the man laying on the ground.

“What?” The Spirit demanded, before realising the answer to his own question. “Oh shit, my mask’s gone.”

The Wolf remained unmoving as he took in the unruly black hair of the other vigilante, pasted to his forehead with damp sweat from the physical exertion, the sharpness of his jawline that his own gaze idly traced countless times as they sat opposite each other, in another life, in another identity, also working as partners day after day for years.

“It’s my scar, isn’t it?” The Spirit asked, reminding him that the other still didn’t know his own identity. He considered walking off now, add another secret to the whole list of them he carried around during the day in front of his colleagues and friends and family. But he knew, of course, that he wouldn’t. “I got it in an accident on the force a couple years back. It looks scarier than it is, really.”

He wanted to tell him then that he knew how he got his scar, he was there next to him when it happened, how he couldn’t look at it for months after that without feeling the guilt and shame and the thought that it should have been him. How he remembered the confrontation between them after, how Zuko had demanded him to admit how he couldn’t bare to look because he thought Zuko was hideous and deformed and broken, and how that was the first time he’d really felt the urge to kiss the other man, kiss him so hard there would be no doubt how beautiful and brave he thought Zuko was.

He wanted to tell him how he barely noticed the scar now, and when he did, it was with nothing but endearment and love.

Instead, being the brilliant wordsmith that he was, what he said was, “I turned you down for… _you_?”

“What?”

Sighing, he decided that he just wanted to end this awkwardness as soon as possible, and reached up to pull his helmet off over his head, making it the other vigilante’s turn to stare.

“ _Sokka?_ ”

* * *

**Day**

“Wait, so when you said that you were seeing someone…?”

They were out during lunch break, upholding the routine of grabbing coffee and a sandwich from the nearby breakfast cart, and taking a stroll around the park near the office building before settling down on the bench.

Sokka took a bite into his sandwich and grimaced at Zuko’s question.

“Oh my god, you actual idiot. You’re insane.” Zuko laughed.

“Hey, _you_ kissed me, what you do expect me to do about it? Turn around and ask some other dude out the very next day and proceed live a secret double life with two guys at once like you did?”

“For the record, I, as the Blue Spirit, just planned on never talking to you, the Grey Wolf, about the Kiss ever again and deflect and ignore it as much as I could.”

“Jerk.” Sokka pouted, swatting at Zuko’s arm.

“I didn’t anticipate you’d go and fall in love with me. But I guess that’s my bad, I should have known how irresistible I was, mask or no.”

Sokka decided not to dignify that with a response, opting to smack his arm again.

“So what now?” He asked on a more serious tone, a moment or two after both of them had giggled enough and fell back into silence again.

Zuko shrugged. “You got what you wanted, I guess. We now know each other’s secret identities. Although I guess you were right in that it would have saved us a lot of hustle to just be out with it in the first place. But where’s the fun in that, right?”

Sokka chuckled in agreement. “But I mean us. This.” He added, gesturing the space between the two of them, “now that I guess I’m available. The guy I was seeing turned out to be a jerk who was just playing around.”

“Well, his loss.” Zuko leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on Sokka’s lips before asking, “this sound good to you?”

“Mhhmhm.” Sokka replied, meeting his mouth to Zuko’s again in a deeper kiss and mumbling contentedly. “Partners? In all the possible ways?” He asked when he pulled back, cocking his head to one side and grinning, prompting a warm smile from his partner.

“Team up of the century.” Zuko agreed.


End file.
